


Kami Pizzeria

by Gilbec7796



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-06 03:41:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17932166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gilbec7796/pseuds/Gilbec7796
Summary: Pizza delivery that shapes a destiny.





	Kami Pizzeria

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Bitchytimemachine who just...  
> Helped me so much on this. I can't thank her enough for it. <3
> 
> And inspired by a wonderful drawing by Nala1588. 
> 
> Also Ladyvegeets has a wonderful fic as well over the same image :)

Bulma couldn't comprehend that out of the several months that she spent working at Kami Turtle Pizzeria: she was late.   Bulma was abruptly finding herself put in charge of an overlooked request to deliver due to her being tardy. Even she unquestionably had to hand it to the evening shift. With all the exertion they had put into the bounteous amount of requests; however, the predicament she was in now was bad.

 

Bulma Brief's was proficient at numerous things but being late; that was not a word used to portray her. As it seemed she was currently forty-five minutes late. She leaned against the grungy entryway while glancing between Tien and Krillin. Bluma’s index finger flicked at the pink watch. Her blue eyes glaring daggers as she huffed, “Really! I’m already forty-five minutes late to deliver an order placed hours ago!”

 

"Bulma… Please…we still need to tidy up here! This is the last request…We’ll even let you keep the tip you get from this, “Krillin begged as he made a decent attempt to push the hot box and bags into her arms.

 

"Krillin! I figure I won’t get a tip! There are stories I’ve heard from the other conveyance individuals here. Ouji hates to wait extra!” Bulma sputtered as she grasped the black strap of the hot box.

 

"Please Bulma, I'll even toss in your favorite pizza,” Krillin bowed his head a smidgen as he glanced upwards using his best puppy eyes at her. Tien took the opportunity to walk away towards the back while shaking his head. Krillin startled as a large crash erupted from the back, "See Bulma! I need to help here!"

 

Slamming her foot to the ground in her typical hissy fit style, she turned rapidly as her blue converse skimmed her to the glass entryway.  The chime dinged as she ventured out into the mid-summer air.  She tossed the pizza in the front of the brilliant red scooter, slapped the protective cap over her head and hurried off.  She made her way to the lofts that, although she never has been there, she knew from past conveyance drivers that this man was quite serious.

 

_'Must be as terrible as Goku when Chi doesn't give him a chance to eat everything,'_ Bulma quietly giggled as she ended up running a red light speeding to her destination. Bulma killed the ignition before popping the button on the side before sliding the capsule into the pocket of her high-waist skinny jeans. Bulma halted before the ringer taking a deep breath. She moved to press the grimy call catch up to loft 307. After a moment the door buzzed opened with a commotion.

 

Bulma’s hand gripped the entryway’s handle as she felt a sticky substance on the handle. Bulma lifted her hand up while she propped the entryway open while shaking her hand, "ew!" Bulma shuddered while she cleaned her hand on her jeans. As she advanced through the grungy lobby blanching as she made it to the broken lift, "Damn it! Seriously it’s down for maintenance? Fuck!"

 

Bulma turned towards the stairs grunting in dissatisfaction.  Her legs climbing as fast as she could make her way upward, _'At last, third floor.'_ Bulma huffed while she utilized the back of her other hand clearing the perspiration off her temple. Yet she still managed to miss the spot on her forehead of tomato sauce. Her nose decorated in flour as she advanced down the dull lobby. 

 

Bulma’s feet compelled her to move towards her dreary fate.  Her back straightened as she remained before the weathered entryway. She felt the need to simply knock and run. She found the feeling of dread crawl up her spine as she halted. Bulma shuddered as she shoved the receipt into her back pocket. ‘ _Better get this over with,’_ her knuckles riveted against the wooden door; striding backwards as a voice boomed from behind the entryway.

 

“Who the fuck is it this late?!”

 

Goodness that voice is unquestionably male, “Conveyance from Kami Turtle Pizzeria!” She couldn't resist, when did her voice get that somewhat sharp? She winced while shaking her head, changing the pack on her hip as she adjusted the hot box on her hip.

 

Nothing. She waited what felt like five minutes until finally she heard mechanical whirring of numerous locks turning. Her hand moved to open the red pizza pack as she straightened herself up to greet her customer. A tan calloused hand held the side of the entry way as it hammered open. A fine male specimen was uncovered, and Bulma nearly exposed herself and took him without further ado.  He stood there, just in his tight spandex boxers and she needed every ounce of self-control to keep her eyes from drifting over the fine hair of his sinful trail that slipped down his V-shape musculature. Snacking somewhat on her swollen lip, she was totally certain her panties were moistened; in fact she was sure she was dripping. She heard a snarl erupting from the man in front of her, making her eyes look upward at the glowering man before her, “I’m sorry fo-“

 

His hand sprung up as he grimaced. His flame hair grazing the top of the door frame as his obsidian eyes glared down at her as if she was a not worthy of standing in his presence. "I don’t want a fucking empty apology. You are so late that I may not want the conveyance now, “his eyes narrowed at her. She felt like her heart had stopped pumping. Bulma watched him lean against the door frame as he shook his head in agitation, "Is everything there?"

 

"Indeed sir. I have your two extra-large meat lover, an order of chicken wings flats only dipped in wasabi and our signature pineapple sauce, two orders of garlic knots and an order of or famous Kami turtle pie,” her now temperamental hand ventured into the pack. Bulma hauled out the biggest request she had ever received to deliver to one person. “The total before our reduction was sixty dollars; however, because of the order arriving late the final price will only be twenty dollars.” Bulma’s eyes looked at him and shinned her brilliant smile. Bulma inwardly prayed to Kami that it would mellow the blow.

 

“I shouldn’t be fucking paying at all.  I requested two hours ago for a conveyance that is now fifty-five minutes late.  I and swear on the chance that this order is cold…” His gruff voice trailed off as Bulma watched him violently answer his cell phone. Bulma moaned as she watched him gravitate back inside of his loft as she found herself alone forcing herself to not eavesdrop.  However she was finding herself eavesdropping when every other word was a curse word. Bulma surrendered any hope of receiving any money; she prepared herself as she advanced towards the entryway.  She found herself close to the entryway before she halted feeling a profound nearness behind her.

 

“I refuse to accept handouts. So you better take this shit and make sure next time I'm on the highest priority when my request comes through. I'd prefer not to have anything awful happen to the old turtle hermit." Ouji threatened as he extended his hand towards her; shoving the plenitude of currency down her shirt. His calloused hands forcing her out into the lobby, "So next time you see Vegeta Ouji you drop everything and arrive on fucking time." He turned as he slammed the entryway in her face.

 

Bulma paused as she looked downwards towards her chest. She investigated the wad of money pouring out as she considered moving it to her pocket. “Two hundred?” Her mouth dropped open as she felt her rage bubbling up; hand pushing the cash into her pack before raising her hand, knocking afresh against the entryway in hostility.

 

The grimy entryway opened revealing a finally clothed Ouji. “What is it no-“Bulma wasn’t about to let him get another word in. She pummeled her foot into his groin as she watched him fall to his knees. Ouji’s breath unbending as he propped himself against the door frame while he brought a hand to his groin.  His deep eyes looked at her through watered eyes as she froze turning and running as quickly as she could down the stairs and out of the building.

 

At last he recaptured his movements while propelling himself upward before he closed the door behind him, "Ballsy bitch, I like it."

 


End file.
